I Won't Ask Again
by theelectriceel
Summary: One shot of a simple but loaded question on the Santos campaign


**Santos campaign one shot**

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

"What in the hell is wrong with you two," Lou, whom everyone thought was asleep, was apparently sick of listening to them bicker. Josh and Donna were shoved into the back seat of a suburban with Lou, who had been trying to ignore them, and the Santos who occupied the middle row of the vehicle.

Donna crossed her arms and set her jaw but didn't respond.

"Yeah, how do you know each other anyway," Helen Santos interjected. She wasn't much of a Washington insider and had no idea if these two had any history together. She liked Donna quite well, but she wasn't a fan of Matt's campaign manager, though she'd hardly had a chance to get to know him. He could be a pompous ass and they hadn't exactly hit it off. He was so cold and closed off all the time while he paraded her family around in front of the nation.

Matt Santos shifted in his seat, watching his wife but waiting for a response from his campaign manager. Helen turned around to face Josh and Donna, waiting for an answer. "Tell me and I wont ask again," Helen joked, wondering why the normally boisterous man was quiet on the subject.

"She's my wife," Josh told Helen.

"Ex-wife," Donna mumbled.

"Wife." Josh insisted, more forcefully, giving her a look filled with both insistance and pain.

The other occupants of the vehicle now had their full attention on the pair, startled by their admission.

"Well not if you'd ever sign the damn papers," she spat at him. "Or do you just love dragging this out? It's been eight damn months. Scribble your name down and get it over with. Everything just has to be on your terms, doesn't it, Joshua?"

Helen Santos thought that maybe she liked Donna even more than she did five minutes ago. But she also began to study Josh a bit more and saw the look of unbridled sadness in his eyes.

"Can we please not do this again? Not right now, in front of people?" Josh scrubbed his hands over his face.

The car was silent.

Donna looked the other way out the window of the moving vehicle and the group sat in tension for the next few moments, before arriving at the small airport.

It was late and they'd had a long day, boarding the small private aircraft for a late night flight. The staffers all took their seats, Josh walking up the aisle as Donna stood, sorting through her bags. He paused for a moment, contemplating taking the seat next to her, but unsure of what her reaction would be.

' _It can't get much worse_ ,' he told himself, telling himself he had to make a bold move.

"Last row," he told her nodding to the back of the airplane and picking up her giant carry on bag. "Go on," he put his arm out, motioning for her to continue walking.

"You don't get to tell me where to sit, Joshua. Why don't we-"

"Why don't you just do what I ask for one minute, Donna? Just work with me on this. Let's resolve things once and for all."

She was annoyed but she didn't want to make a scene so she appeased him, sitting down in the back and crossing her arms.

"I have to give the Congressman some numbers, I'll be right back," he told her.

"Josh, wait," she looked genuine and open, the first time he'd seen that from her in months. "Let's not do this on the plane. Please," she almost begged. "I don't think the entire staff needs to hear the details of our divorce. We'll make an appointment to sit down with the lawyers next week to finalize. We shouldn't discuss anything without them anyway."

He stared at her for a moment and then looked down shifting his weight from leg to leg as he rested the bulk of his weight on the seat next to where he stood. He didn't say anything, turning and walking up to the Congressman as Donna settled into the window seat.

By the time he returned to the back of the airplane she was asleep. He watched her for a moment, knowing that their new pattern was for him to find a seat far from her and avoid any eye contact while sat alone, feeling sick over the heartbreak. But not tonight. He stood in the aisle, removing his jacket and tie and sliding in next to her.

He brushed a strand of hair out of her face and studied her. She was exhausted on so many levels, and so was he, and it was beginning to show. He hated it. He hated that he'd had any part in it. And he hated that he couldn't be there for her like he used to.

She moved in her sleep, shifting to rest on him, and he allowed her to, gathering her up and pulling her close. Their days were numbered if she had her way, and he just wanted to hold her.

"I miss you," he whispered ever so softly, choking up almost immediately. "I'm not giving this up without a fight. I know things haven't been easy, and they haven't been for a long time. But Donna I'm so in love with you and that's never going to change. So if you haven't to… to…" he sniffed, "I'll let you. I won't hold you back anymore. But I'm never going to stop loving you. Never." He was crying a little bit at this point, planting a soft kiss on he forehead before closing his eyes and leaning his head back on the seat, his thumb gently stroking her arm.

He felt her grip tighten on his shirt, and the hot tears on his neck. He didn't know what to do next, he'd always been horrible at this. He pulled her closer to him and buried his face in her hair, unashamed of letting her know his current emotional state.

"I know it won't be easy. That we have a lot of things to talk about, and that I have a lot of things to work on, but I'm willing to try anything," he told her, stroking her hair and planting the occasional kiss in her hair. "Donnatella, do you want me to let you go," he finally whispered, speaking both literally and metaphorically. He held his breath waiting for her response.

She sat up, looking him square in the eye and studying his face, the depth and breadth of emotion written on her own. "No, Joshua. Please don't let me go," she told him, leaning in to seal her recommitment to him with a heartfelt kiss.


End file.
